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ALONG THE 


GREAT SOUTH ROAD 


A CHRISTMAS STORY 


BY 

R. E. KEIGHTON 



Read on December 25, 1921 
At the First Baptist Church of Collingswood, N. J. 



COPYRIGHTED 
BY R. E. KEIGHTON 
1922 



§) CL A 6 6 1 5 0 3 

m -2 1922 


^0 I 


Dedicated 

to 

My Mother and Father 







PREFACE 

Though originally intended as a Christ- 
mas story, in lieu of a sermon, “ Along the 
Great South Road” has grown to its present 
form through the nurture of the kind words 
of friends and the hope that one more view 
of the Master’s Birth may enhance its beauty 
and power in our lives. 



yllong the Great South T^oad 


Along the dusty road traveled the small 
party. The man led a donkey upon which 
rode a young woman with a child in her 
arms. Behind them came unwillingly 
another donkey, laden with the necessities of 
travel. Night was near, and from time to 
time the man looked in apprehension at the 
signs of the approaching darkness. He 
sought to hide his growing anxiety from 
the woman, for he did not wish to add to her 
fatigue the enervation of a troubled mind. 
In spite of this, however, she was aware of 
his quick glances toward the west and of the 
gathering of his brows. Yet, with a sym- 
pathy and love matching his, she gave no 
indication that she shared his anxiety. 

As they moved slowly along, they were 
overtaken by a kindly faced Hebrew, travel- 
ing in the same direction. In a very nat- 
ural way he slowed his pace, accommodating 
it to theirs. Without waiting for their salu- 
tation he addressed them in the accustomed 


manner. 


“May God give you health and strength.” 

To which was replied: 

“May God refresh and strengthen your 
life.” 

“Whence hath thy excellent presence 
come and whither art thou facing?” 

“From Egypt have we come and toward 
Nazareth are we facing.” 

“What is thy precious name?” 

“Thy humble servant Joseph, son of 
Jacob, of the lineage of David.” 

“What are thy years?” 

“My years, friend, are five and thirty.” 

“May thy life be long and happy. What 
children hast thou?” 

“But this babe in his mother’s arms.” 

“Long life to him and health and happi- 
ness.” 

The exchange of greetings had consumed 
some time, for the questions were not asked 
rapidly. As yet no word had been spoken 
concerning shelter for the night, and Joseph, 
in the long silence that followed, was con- 
sidering asking his companion if he knew of 
an Inn in the vicinity where he and his fam- 
ily might find lodging. The old Hebrew, 
however, with that delicate sense of hospi- 


tality possessed by his race, was awaiting his 
opportunity. 

By this time they had arrived at a small 
house before which sat a young woman of 
sad countenance. The old Hebrew beck- 
oned to her, saying, 

“Miriam, thou hast guests.” 

He then turned to Joseph and his wife, 

“Ennoble us by thy presence.” 

“We would be ennobled, but we cannot 
accept.” 

“That cannot be.” 

“Yea, it must be.” 

“No, I swear against you by our friend- 
ship and by the life of God. I love just to 
acquaint you with my bread and salt.” 

“I swear also that I cannot accept.” 

It seemed for a moment that they would 
part, but taking Joseph by the arm, the old 
Hebrew gently drew him toward the door, 
and with a “God preserve thee and thy 
house,” Joseph entered. 

Mary, who had awaited the decision of 
Joseph, now dismounted with the assistance 
of the other woman and entered the house. 
Their hostess led the animals to the rear of 
the building, removed their burdens and 


provided them with food. This took but a 
few moments; then she joined her guests. 

In a very short time she had prepared for 
them a frugal meal of meat and crushed 
wheat, bread and fruits. Though plain fare, 
it was given with whole-hearted willingness 
and thereby refreshed the soul as well as the 
body. 

At its conclusion, they went outside the 
house, climbed the few narrow steps that led 
to the flat roof and seated themselves to 
enjoy the cool of an eastern evening. 

From their slightly elevated position a 
wondrous scene unfolded itself. Along the 
road, now nearly deserted, came a belated 
muleteer, urging on his animals by whip 
and voice. Just now he was abreast of a 
camel moving with majestic stride, its driver 
swaying and bobbing like a wave-tossed 
cork. These were the sole travelers along 
the Great South Road. 

At some distance from the house upon 
which they were seated, the roof of another 
held a similar gathering of men and women. 
Just beyond it and to the left, a third roof 
had momentarily become a sanctuary; for, 
upon it, an old man knelt in the attitude of 
prayer. 


Joseph and his host had withdrawn to a 
corner, where they sat in silence for several 
moments, after which their conversation 
turned to the harvest season, the new Gov- 
ernor of Syria and kindred topics of interest 
to men of their day and station in life. 

The women had likewise sought a corner 
of the roof apart from the men, and had 
spoken no word to each other. The child 
lay asleep in his mother’s arms. The other 
woman watched him in a fascinated way, 
until at last she spoke. 

“Did I hear him say thou wast facing 
toward Nazareth?” 

“Yea, so he said,” was the reply. 

“Well mayest thou return now, but ill had 
it been if thou hadst journeyed near Beth- 
lehem but a few months ago. We dwelt 
there, and I am returning within a fortnight, 
— but how sad it will be.” 

A look of sympathy came into the young 
mother’s face, and after a moment she said, 

“It is because the road is now safe that 
we are journeying back. Two years ago we 
were living in Bethlehem, as happy as a new 
family could be — Joseph, He and I. He 
was but a babe then ; little more than a year 


old. How joyous it all seemed! Suddenly 
we were warned of the evil designs of Herod 
and fled into Egypt, to the house of my 
husband’s brother.” 

“Warned?” broke in the other. “Would 
to God that some one had warned us ! How 
much sorrow I might have escaped! May 
God burn the bones of Herod’s fathers and 
destroy his seed from the earth ! ” 

At the double curse, Mary drew back in 
horror, and after a pause, Miriam continued. 

“We, too, were a happy family, rejoicing 
in the recent gift of God. Our little David 
was all of life to us, and we had already 
planned to make him a man worthy of his 
people. How our hearts were stirred when- 
ever he laughed at us or babbled sounds that 
to our fancy became ‘Mother’ and ‘Father.’ 
When he reached out his hands to us — the 
wealth of all the world could not have bought 
our joy! ” 

The wonderful picture brought back by 
these words lingered in the memory of 
Miriam. She was silent, gazing at the 
sleeping child. Suddenly the look of joy 
was gone from her face, and as a new scene 
came to her imagination, it was replaced by 
the same bitter countenance Mary had ob- 


served when she first saw her sitting outside 
the house. 

“One day, as we were gathered for prayers 
that centered themselves about our child, our 
devotions were interrupted by a wild confu- 
sion in the streets. Suddenly there came to 
our ears the shrieks and wailings of women’s 
voices, the blast of brazen trumpets, the 
clashing of swords and the desperate cry: 
‘The soldiers! The soldiers of Herod are 
killing our children ! ’ 

“Before either Samuel or myself could re- 
cover ourselves they had burst into the room, 
three stalwart men in armour. One advanced 
to where David lay, glanced at him but a 
moment, and then the sword in a swift flash 
had taken away all that this world held for 
us. My husband, brave and fearless as he 
always was, frenzied by this sudden, mur- 
derous assault upon a mere babe, rushed 
upon the man. I cried out, but alas! the 
sword had repeated its deadly work! I re- 
member nothing else. 

“In one moment husband and babe were 
taken from me. In one moment, what had 
been all day and light, was changed into sad- 
ness and darkest night!” 


In grief too deep for utterance she was 
silent, and Mary, looking upon the sorrow 
of one so sorely afflicted, could do nothing 
more than sit quietly by and wait for the 
calm that only God could give. As the mo- 
ments passed, she suddenly became aware of 
the tense situation in which she was thus 
unwittingly placed. 

Here before her was a mother all to vividly 
reminded of her lost child and husband by 
the presence in her home of a family similar 
to her own. A bitter irony lay in the fact 
that the child, so peacefully sleeping in his 
mother’s arms, was He whom the soldiers of 
Herod had sought! He had all unknow- 
ingly caused the death of innocent children, 
and the mother of one of them was sheltering 
Him beneath her roof. 

As the meaning became clear to Mary a 
struggle took possession of her soul. Should 
she accept the hospitality of Miriam without 
comment, or should she openly tell her the 
whole truth? Only for a moment did she 
question her course, and then clearly she 
saw what was the only thing to do. 

“Miriam, thy story has deeply moved me 
and my heart goes out to thee in a way thou 


canst surely understand. Wilt thou hold 
the Child while I tell thee a story, the like of 
which thou hast never heard?’’ 

With a new-born light of peace, Miriam 
gathered the infant to her bosom, and as 
Mary began that wonderful story, she lived 
again the days of the past. 

“ Shortly before His birth I visited my 
cousin Elizabeth in the hill country of Judea. 
We were both soon to be among those honor- 
ed of God and of this our talk did naturally 
consist. How grand it all seemed as we 
planned and hoped for great things of the 
Lord. Truly my soul did glorify Him and 
my spirit rejoice within me. For He had 
regarded the humility of His handmaiden 
and perchance — all peoples should call me 
blessed! Had not His mercy been upon 
them that reverenced Him and worshipped 
Him from generation to generation? He had 
shown the power of His arm and had scat- 
tered the proud in the vain imaginings of 
their hearts. He had removed the mighty 
from their high places and had exalted them 
of low degree. He had filled the hungry 
with good things and the rich He had sent 
empty away. As His mercy had continually 


rested upon Israel, so now it dwelt with me. 
Blessed be the name of the Lord. 

“After two months I returned home and 
for days remained in deep contemplation of 
the meaning of all these things. The Spirit 
of the Lord was upon me and I knew that 
His name should be called JESUS !” 

With a cry of dismay Miriam turned 
sharply toward Mary. 

“Is this He?” she demanded. At the cry 
the men stopped their conversation and came 
hurriedly to them. “Didst thou call?” asked 
Miriam’s brother. 

“Nay I did not,” said Miriam, “but dost 
thou know that this child is He whom the 
soldiers of Herod sought? He, but for whom, 
my David might even now be lying in my 
arms.” Then to Mary she said, as she held 
out Jesus to her, “Take him! He who has 
caused my loss shall not rest in the bosom 
He has made empty! ” 

As Mary took Jesus He awoke and smiled 
at her as many another child has smiled 
up into His mother’s face. For Mary it was 
more than a smile. It was a benediction up- 
on her troubled heart; it was encouragement 
for the story she had yet to tell. Darkness 


had now settled upon them and the only 
illumination was the light of the stars and 
a beautiful new moon low on the western 
horizon. The quiet and peace of night added 
its soothing charm to the scene. 

There was a new tone in Mary’s voice 
as she continued, “As thou knowest, it came 
to pass in those days that Caesar Augustus 
issued a decree of enrollment. My husband 
being of the lineage of David, went up from 
Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into 
Judea, to the city of David which is called 
Bethlehem. There dwelt two brothers of 
Joseph, the one a dealer in herbs, the other 
a priest in the Temple. To the first we hur- 
ried and found that his guest chamber was 
already filled with the family of his wife 
who had come from Capernaum the night 
before. Bidding me stay there and rest while 
he sought shelter from the other brother, 
he departed. 

“There, too, the house was filled and no 
room could be found to accommodate so 
much as a child. How worried he was as he 
returned with the sad news! Knowing the 
time to be near at hand he hurried to the 
Inn of Chimham, the only remaining hope. 


“On the way he met many of his people, 
but they all told him the same story of guest- 
chambers filled to overflowing. Our journey 
had been long and our progress slow, so that 
we were late in arriving. Even at the Inn 
there was found no room. At last we took 
refuge in the small cave behind the Inn, 
used as shelter for the animals. There Jesus 
was born. He of whom God had spoken 
to me was born! ” 

At these words Miriam raised her head 
and in a wistful mood said, “Does not God 
speak thus to every mother? Is there one 
to whom He does not promise a child in 
whom all the nations of the world shall be 
blessed? So He spoke to my heart. David 
was to have been lent unto the Lord. For 
him I prayed and the Lord had granted unto 
me my petition which I asked of Him. 
Therefore, the gift of the Lord was returned 
unto Him.” 

As though she had been uninterrupted, 
Mary went on, 

“In the days that followed many strange 
visitors came. Certain shepherds who had 
been abiding in the fields near by and keep- 
ing watch over their flocks told us that for 


several nights they had observed a star of 
exceeding brightness, and hearing of the 
birth of a man-child in such an important 
place as the Inn of Chimham they came to 
see the meaning thereof. 

“They stood by in silence or hushed 
whispers until Joseph bade them come 
closer. Then one of them, older than the 
others and having the mien of a patriarch, 
spoke in a voice of reverence and awe, as 
though repeating some sacred message of an 
angel, ‘ Glory to God in the highest and on 
earth His peace to men of good-will toward 
Him.’ 

“From the court of the King of Yemen 
there came certain Magicians, who, having 
likewise seen the star at its rising, sought 
its meaning throughout Judea. At last, tired 
and weary, they arrived in Bethlehem, were 
unable to find room anywhere and were com- 
pelled to take up their abode in the very 
cave where we were sheltered. They had 
with them priceless treasures from the East, 
which they offered to Jesus as gifts, Gold, 
Frankincense and Myrrh. 

“It was from these men that we learned 
of the hatred and suspicion of Herod. For, 


as they journeyed, the Magicians continued 
to ask, ‘Where is He that is to be born 
King of the Jews?’ Herod and all Jerusalem 
were aroused and when they left, the King 
was already gathering about him all the 
chief priests and scribes of the people, in- 
quiring of them where and when it was to 
be that this so-called ‘King of the Jews’ 
should be born? 

“Thus were we warned of the danger to 
ourselves should we remain in Bethlehem, 
and without seeming haste or show we de- 
parted into Egypt.” 

For the past few moments Miriam had 
been following the story with an eagerness 
that was apparent in the tenseness of her 
attitude and the light in her eyes. Now, as 
the story reached a seeming end, she went on, 
as tho continuing it from the point where 
Mary left off, 

“We have waited long, and the waves of 
evil and sorrow have gone over us like the 
waves of the great sea in number. Nations 
that fear not Jehovah have despised us; 
they have profaned our holy things, and 
filled our cup to overflowing with bitterness 
and grief. As a flock torn and scattered by 


wolves or by lions from the thickets of 
Jordan, so has Israel been torn and scat- 
tered well nigh all the years since the great 
Prophets told our fathers of the coming of 
the Kingdom — and then, walking with 
God, were no more ! 

“We wept long by the rivers of Babylon, 
far away from our homes and the ruined 
Temple. They bade us sing the songs of 
Israel. How could we sing the Lord’s song 
in a strange land? Yet did we not forget 
Jerusalem and the city of David! 

“The Syrians and Romans have mocked 
us, have trodden our sacred books into the 
dust and have brought us under their iron 
yoke. Has God forgot us? Has the Lord 
of Hosts cast us away from being His 
people because of all our sins? 

“The throne of David is desolate, and 
our people pay taxes to a stranger on a 
distant shore who knows not our Lord. My 
heart was sick and I had thought that mine 
eyes must soon close without seeing the glory 
of the last days. 

“Now let me sing unto the Lord a new 
song, for He hath done marvellous things. 
His right hand and His holy arm hath 


wrought salvation for Him. The Lord hath 
made known His salvation. His righteous- 
ness hath He revealed in the sight of all 
nations. He hath remembered his faithful- 
ness and His mercy toward the house of 
Israel; all the ends of the earth have seen 
the salvation of our God. O God, create in 
me a clean heart and renew within me a right 
spirit ! ” 

She reached out her hands to take Jesus 
again, and Mary, with a smile on her face 
and a warmth in her heart, gave Him into 
her arms. 
















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